


As the Stars Fade Out

by Cottontail



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Crossover, First Time, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-02
Updated: 2011-04-02
Packaged: 2017-10-17 11:04:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/176212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cottontail/pseuds/Cottontail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SG-1 drags the Atlantis team out to a Wraith infested planet in the Pegasus galaxy in hopes of tracking down some Ancient text to help in the war against the Ori. Everything goes wrong from the start and Rodney discovers something he should have always known.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As the Stars Fade Out

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my beta, nudaydreamer.

1\. The Next 10 Minutes

For one terrifying moment Rodney is certain he’s drowning again. He’s underwater, eyes open but sight is compromised by cloudy waters and hearing is dulled. There’s a distinct whine of Wraith Darts flying patterns above, randomly shooting into the water and the equally distinct rapid-fire of sub-machine guns.

A near miss with a bullet knocks him into reality again and he’s swimming down towards the Puddle Jumper they all flew in on. They hadn’t been prepared for the mass Wraith infestation hovering over this planet’s atmosphere. The intelligence listed it as safe with no signs of Wraith when they left Atlantis. But the hole blown into one of the thrusters on the Jumper and the rapid decent to the bottom of the lake clearly suggest otherwise. The others are out already but Rodney has equipment he refuses to leave behind - things needed if they manage to live through the next 10 minutes at all.

Within seconds he has it but can’t find his way back to the surface until light flashes just above and he knows it’s going to be a fiery storm of explosives but moves towards them anyways.

Sheppard is screaming orders; it’s the first fleeting thing he hears when his head surfaces, and it’s quickly drowned out by rapid fire, buzzing Darts and innocent civilians howling for their lives. He’s been through this just enough times to not go into total shock and freeze up, though it’s a real struggle on his part.

His weapon is some place… oh right, the bottom of the lake.

Col. Carter is suddenly next to him; he thinks it’s her, sees the blond of hair under her BDU cap and then she’s grabbing his arm and screaming something important but all he catches is his name.

She’s trying to drag him towards the others, which seems like a good idea because a moving target is much better than a sitting one. Or that’s what Sheppard said once.

They’re ducking under thorny brush, dodging blaster fire and bullets, splashing through knee-deep water, trying to make it to the caves less than 50 feet away, which seems impossible.

A young girl is splashing across the dark, bloodied water towards them, crying. Darts are overhead. Instantly Rodney moves for her and Carter lets him go. He doesn’t even like kids! But he can’t leave her here; she’ll haunt his dreams for the rest of his life. Again, this is assuming he lives through the next 10 minutes.

He has her; she’s clinging to his hand, letting him drag her along behind him. Blaster fire is whizzing past his head. Carter is in front of them, helping another fallen civilian up. Mitchell is almost to the caves. Teal’c, Ronon and Jackson are shooting at the Darts above them with P90’s… or something equally destructive.

The kid scrambles away when he stumbles in the water. She sees someone familiar and is trying to get to them. Dread fills him - she won’t make it without being shot - but he can’t watch her progress; Sheppard is on him suddenly, screaming again, “MOVE IT, RODNEY! MOVE NOW!”

“I am fucking moving! What the fuck do you think I’m doing!? Whose stupid idea was this anyways?!”

Sheppard’s not listening; he’s trying to radio Mitchell, something about securing a position. Rodney takes the opportunity to map in his mind the location of the Hive ship hanging overhead. He’s certain they will not make it through the next 10 minutes – make that 7 minutes now.

“Fuck-fuck-fuck!” He curses non-stop and tries to stay on Sheppard’s tail. Ronon is at their side, semi-automatic in one hand and blaster in another, blowing things up right and left. Rodney is sure he’ll be deaf for days after this is over… if he lives.

They have to destroy the hive ship if they want to remain on this planet any longer. To do that they need what is in the pack on his back.

The water is up to their chests, Sheppard’s got a hold of his collar, pulling him towards the caves. There are pieces of things he doesn’t want to identify floating all around them.

By some miracle they both make it to the opening of a shallow lake in one of the caves. Mitchell and the rest of SG-1 are all smashed against the walls, cold water up to their chins, looking shocked. Actual shock! Rodney wants to take a picture but his camera is at the bottom of the lake.

Though, in all honesty, Teal’c doesn’t seem too terribly ruffled.

“So, you get this kind of welcome on all the planets you visit?” Mitchell yells over the din of battle. Rodney is choking on smoke and the stench of blood and terror all around them. Teyla is beside him, slapping him on the back, which is only irritating him. There’s a gash on the side of her temple, blood dripping down her face. Ronon is still firing outside the cave, trying to bring down as many Darts as possible, which is insane because _hello_! Giant Hive Ship with endless supply of Darts!

There’s a city on this planet. Well, there was a city on this planet. An advanced city with a military almost as sophisticated as the Genii. But that is all they know because as soon as they came through the gate it was full-on warfare in the middle of a culling. “This information better be worth it.” Mitchell is glaring at Dr. Jackson and Rodney takes a moment to glare as well, until blaster fire and projectiles are flying around the walls of the caves. Some Wraith warriors have appeared and Rodney ducks underwater. The explosives, he remembers the original goal, pulls the pack off his back and starts work on setting the mini-torpedo up for detonation.

Carter joins him, sees what he’s doing and tries to help, pulling the detonator out and connecting it while he quickly types in calculations for the actual explosion. He sets up the missile outside the range of the cave then swims back just as his lungs are burning for air. Thank the Ancients for being so brilliant with waterproof technology.

On the surface the battle is heavy again. He tries to catch some air but it’s difficult with the smoke so thick. He manages to grab a hold of Sheppard and pull him down close enough to yell against his ear, “Bomb. Huge explosion above atmosphere, get under water, now!”

Sheppard’s eyes focus on him for a moment, he signals to the rest of the team to get under water because something big is about to happen. Rodney figures under water is better than above at this point, so they all join him.

He gives a sign to Sam to move away from the mini-torpedo. This is Atlantean technology mixed with a little of his own creation, so she can’t do much more in the way of help. Quickly he taps in codes; the little missile powers up with a deep reverberation under the waves of water then shoots up into the atmosphere towards the general area of the hovering Hive Ship. The group huddles close beneath the water. Rodney signals the countdown with his fingers, though they can all hear the weapon powering up, even this far below the surface. Five-four-three-two…

Dead silence seconds before every cell in his body is vibrating from the electricity of atoms imploding over the atmosphere of the planet. Slowly they all venture back above water, gasping for breath.

Rodney can almost taste the atoms dancing in the air from shock. Not a sound fills the cave, until slowly the screaming civilians and blasters start up again as the remaining Wraith on the planet go into panic mode.

“They’re still out there,” Dr. Jackson points out the obvious as he tilts his head, trying to shake water out of his ear.

“The Hive Ship is gone, though,” Sheppard clarifies with a tight smile.

“Well, that’s good.” Mitchell’s looking a little too white.

“I have an idea. Let’s steal some Darts and go home,” Rodney suggests hopefully.

“Lets not and say we did.” Sheppard has his familiar smirk on. “I think we came here for a specific reason?” He’s raising a brow at the SG-1 team. Slowly they regroup, getting their wits back and moving out of the cave.

“Which way, Jackson?” Mitchell asks as they all begin a slow climb up the slippery hill over the cave.

“Well… the book said to walk towards the two brightest stars,” Daniel is looking at the darkening skies.

“Which ones are brightest?” Ronon asks.

They all gaze up as the stars are fading out behind the growing haze of post-fusion explosives.

\---  
2\. The Night Watch

 

The night is pitch black, the ground is soaked from a continuous drizzle of rain, Rodney’s wet, Sheppard is wet (and sneezing all over him) and to top it off, Wraith are now on the hunt for them.

All this for some Ancient text, which may or may not provide guidance for saving Earth from the Ori. It’s his home planet so Rodney should really be more enthusiastic about this mission, but his heart is just not in it for some reason.

A decision was made, it was impossible to know which of the stars were the brightest, rather than get lost following the wrong ones, they found a concealed area and set up camp. A distant cacophony of weapons’ fire is always present from the dwindling local militia and the remaining Wraith.

Mitchell and Teal’c talk in hushed tones every few minutes but Rodney can’t make out the words under the warm cocoon of the sleeping bag tucked around him and Sheppard.

Sheppard casually insinuated himself under it while Rodney was blissfully snoring away. He couldn’t really shove the other man out of the warmth because there are only three dry sleeping bags. Ronon and Teyla occupied one while Dr. Jackson and Sam shared another. Mitchell and Teal’c took over night watch after Sheppard’s shift ended.

 

“Is it just me or are you sick like every other week now?” Rodney grouses in a whisper. Sheppard is sniffling and rubbing at his eyes and generally keeping Rodney from sleeping anymore. The one good thing is that he’s hot and feverish which makes for extra warmth.

“I’m fine. Stress makes your immune system weak and all that crap. I’ll get over it.”

“Maybe Carson should give you more vitamin C or something.”

“I’ll mention that to him.” Rodney can hear the smirk in Sheppard’s voice.

Quiet fills the cocoon around them until Sheppard sneezes again. Rodney sighs heavily.

“Sorry.” He presses closer and shivers slightly. Rodney almost feels bad for him. But he’s the one who volunteered them for this cursed mission instead of sending some other bunch of dumb grunts, so his sympathy only goes so far. And even though Rodney’s recently become accustomed to overt familiarity between team members (which is apparently inspired by shared battle and near-death missions), smooshed together in a sleeping bag is still just a little… odd to him.

“Do they know what to listen for? I mean you told them about how you don’t even know a Wraith is there until it pops up in front of you, right? You told them what to do?”

“I think they know by now, Rodney. If the rough landing didn’t drive the lesson home I don’t know what else would.” Sheppard snorts and sneezes again.

“Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t you just lick my face so I can be SURE to get your cold.”

Silence.

“Really?”

Rodney sighs.

A chill wind blows through the trees, spattering drops of rain from the leaves over them.

\---  
3\. Just Follow Jackson

Again with the rain, Rodney thinks he’s going to have permanent trench foot if whatever passes for a sun on this planet doesn’t come out at some point.

Sheppard’s hair is not sticking up any more, just plastered down in wet strands, and this disturbs Rodney in a way he can’t define. It’s just not right.

What’s also not right is to be up at o-dark-thirty, sloughing through shallow puddles as the terrain goes from grassy to muddy and back again. Teal’c and Dr. Jackson have intel that a village is ahead. They want to talk to the locals. No one from the Atlantis team bothers to mention how highly unlikely it is any locals are still alive. Sometimes you have to let people learn the hard way.

This mission is purely SG-1’s to lead, with the Atlantis team here as backup in the event of Wraith attacks only. Rodney uses this as an excuse to not pay too much attention to what is happening around them until strictly called for.

Paying attention means Rodney has an obligation to point out each thing they are doing wrong (technically speaking) and Carter seems to take that personally. Never mind that he’s been totally right every time. Not his fault she can’t take criticism.

This is what he does know: They are looking for some ancient text regarding a weapon that will play a vital role in protecting Earth from, and hopefully defeating, the Ori. Dr. Jackson and Carter have tracked the important Ancient text to this planet through a source provided by the Nox. That’s where Rodney’s information ends, because while he’s a genius he’s also only willing to track one universal evil at a time and he’s got more than enough on his plate right now. He just doesn’t want to add all the terrifying details of Ori into the mix or he may be forced to go find a dark place and curl into a fetal ball.

Three Lt. Colonels in one pot is too much as well, so Sheppard is hanging back.

They’re spread as a line of ants in file formation, Mitchell and Dr. Jackson at point, Sheppard bringing up the rear and the rest trail along at various points of their own choosing. Rodney stays towards the tail with Sheppard. He can just barely hear the other man humming under his breath as they move along. It’s an irritatingly elusive tune that Rodney knows he’s heard before.

“Hey McKay, I think they’re lost,” Ronon’s voice murmurs through Rodney’s earpiece. SG-1 doesn’t have earpieces; another thing Rodney feels a need to criticize yet doesn’t. Ronon’s tall form is just a few yards ahead, eyes always scanning the horizon and weapon at the ready. He and Rodney have built a mutual camaraderie based solely on food and quietly insulting other people’s stupid choices.

“Of course they’re lost,” Rodney snorts. “I don’t know why we are here at all. This ‘text’ they’re after is like looking for the Holy Grail.”

Ronon glances back at him with a confused look. Rodney sighs and waves a hand to indicate he’s not even going to try and explain that one.

A few feet behind him, Sheppard’s humming is disrupted by sneezes. “Yeah, well there are Wraith crawling all over the place and it’s only a matter of time before they call in another Hive,” Ronon continues.

“Preaching to the choir, big guy,” Rodney grumbles. He rearranges his P90 to a more comfortable position and struggles to get out the life signs detector.

“Come on boys, let’s buck up.” Sheppard moves forward to walk beside Rodney. He gives a small, very Sheppard-like smile. Rodney studies him closely for a moment. That particular smile always appears to have some hidden implication and he’s never been able to really put a name to it. It’s a frustrating puzzle begging to be solved.

They continue in silence for another half mile until Sheppard is yelling warning of an incoming Dart. The group scatters and Rodney throws himself into the nearby cover of woods; watching as Ronon and Sheppard take careful aim, firing simultaneously at the incoming flight. Of course it bursts into flames mid-air and screams to a crash landing several yards away.

Slowly everyone reappears and gathers together.

“No life signs,” Rodney says, eyes on the little hand-held device.

“Thanks,” Mitchell nods at Sheppard.

“No problem,” Sheppard returns, still watching the smoking Dart. “Listen, you sure you know where you’re going?”

Mitchell almost rolls his eyes just before he flashes a brilliant smile at them, “I never know where I’m going. I just follow Jackson.”

They file out again into silent formation; Rodney returning to his place at the tail end, Sheppard joins him.

The rain is falling heavily now.

\---  
4\. The Bad Feeling

The village is dead. Not a single person left alive. Rodney holds back words of “I told you so” and stuffs the life signs detector back in his pocket.

“The Wraith rarely leave anyone alive after a culling now,” Teyla explains to SG-1 as they dig through the remains of a large house. It must belong to the village leader or some such important person. Teyla has a bandage over her temple. It needs to be changed - Rodney can see blood soaking through - but Teyla is oblivious or just ignoring it, he doesn’t know which.

They leave the death in the village and move out towards a center of holy ground. Jackson has deciphered, from some old village newspapers, that it’s located approximately 8 or 9 miles away in a valley. This, he feels certain, is where the next clue lies.

Rain turns to sleet and Rodney thinks, in a glass-is-always-half-empty way, the day just can’t get any better. He turns up the collar of his all-weather coat and stuffs his hands into the opposite sleeves, cradling the P90 against his chest.

Sam drops back from her position up front, slowly taking up stride beside him. “You know, McKay, I’ve been meaning to say, that weapon back there – the little torpedo-missile thing? Very impressive.”

He can’t help but smile. Of course it was impressive. He made it, with just a bit of help from Zelenka. “Well, thank you. It was mostly Ancient technology but I made a few tweaks here and there and well… there it was.” He smiles at her and she actually returns it, which makes him lose a step, but he recovers nicely.

They launch into mutual scientific discussion of the latest technologies each has come across in the past few years. This helps pass the next mile of walking very well. He’s just going into detail about the biological make-up of Hive Ships when they are interrupted by a grumpy Sheppard.

“Excuse me _Ma’am_ ,” he drawls, “I wonder if I might borrow him?” A firm hand is wrapped around his upper arm and he’s being pulled back to walk with Sheppard.

“Sure.” Sam looks a little confused but falls back to walk with Teyla.

“What?” Rodney scowls, yanking his arm away.

“It would be nice if you could check life signs every so often,” Sheppard answers with narrowed eyes.

“Oh, please. That is what you dragged me away for?” He pulls out the detector and scans. “Nope, no one’s alive but us. Happy?”

Sheppard looks a little awkward. “Well… no. Not really happy about that.” He’s scanning the darkening skies. A real snow storm is approaching; Rodney can feel the chill seeping into the damp of his uniform. “Just try to stay alert, will you? I have a bad feeling.”

“Oh great, the bad feeling.” Rodney reflexively checks his weapon to be sure it’s ready for any sudden Wraith attack. He looks nervously at the heavy clouds.

“Hey, it’s not a big thing, just stay alert, okay?”

“Alert? Colonel, when have I ever not been alert?” He’s personally offended at the suggestion.

“Rodney, I’m just asking you to keep a watch out,” Sheppard snarls back. His voice is getting raspy from his cold. Rodney thinks he looks a bit more haggard than usual, too.

“Keep a watch out? Last time I checked I’m the brilliant scientist and you’re the soldier-“

“Officer, actually.”

“Whatever! When are we going to rest?”

“Rest? We’ve only been walking a few hours. Besides, I’m not leading so you need to ask Mitchell that.”

Rodney glares, taking the opportunity to reach over into Sheppard’s personal space and fish out a power bar from his inside cargo pocket. Chocolate cranberry. Oddly there’s no objection to the theft.

He’s halfway through eating when he glances back to see Sam has been silently watching the entire exchange with Teyla from a few feet behind them. She gives him an amused smile.

\---  
5\. An Ambush

Sheppard’s bad feeling was like the understatement of the century.

Three more blown-up Wraith Darts and a violent ambush which ends in Rodney and Mitchell huddled in an abandoned cellar in the middle of white-out snow storm. For hours they hunch down in the tiny space, wind blows fast and furious, whistling through the cracked doorframe. Night is approaching rapidly.

Rodney’s chilled beneath his damp uniform, and sneezing with Sheppard’s cold. His fingers are numb and not as nimble as he’d like them to be. He’s trying to rewire the life signs detector which was damaged in the ambush. It’s all he can do to take his mind off the situation. Mitchell watches him from his post beside the door.

They talk in hushed voices about the ambush, the text they are in search of, the Ori, the Wraith and the latest season of CSI, which Rodney was always a closet fan of. Mitchell is very good at recounting episodes and it keeps Rodney’s overactive mind occupied.

His head is spinning from the recent skirmish. Someone was shot; he remembers the slow soak of red blood in the snow, Jackson yelling for a medical kit and then the explosion that rocked the ground and threw him into a nearby ditch with Mitchell. From there it’s all hazy with gunfire, buzzing Wraith Darts and all the usual sounds of battle. Mitchell doesn’t know who was hit. Rodney asks him to please explain what the difference is between CSI Miami, CSI Las Vegas and CSI New York.

Snow drifts in from a cracked window, just above ground-level. “Hey, you getting anything from them yet?” Michell asks, referring to the earpiece Rodney still has on. Reception has been impossible in the storm.

“No,” he mutters from is half-doze in the corner.

“Wake up. I don’t need you sleeping in this cold. I think you’re hypothermic.” Mitchell throws something at him but Rodney is shivering and too tired to look at what it was.

“I’m awake and that better NOT have been a lemon! By the way, this mission sucks. Just so you know,” he grumbles.

“Did you want to tell me how you really feel, McKay?”

“Yeah, actually I do.” He lifts his head and glares at the shadow of Mitchell just a few feet away. “Your mission sucks, you’re grasping at straws when you should be doing everything possible to reinforce defenses _on_ Earth. You know, shielding? It works. If Earth had a ZPM you would have more leeway to go out on these frivolous excursions. Atlantis could contact you more easily and share our own technology. By the way, I never intend to assist you with this shit again.”

“Nice.”

“Hey! I’m a little strung out here! I haven’t eaten since this morning, which is just doing wonders for my blood sugar. I’m tired, I’m freezing, and I’ve lost contact with my team! So, no I’m not Mr. Happy right now!”

Something else hits him in the head and lands in his lap; a power bar.

“Chill out.” Mitchell wipes a gloved hand over his face and stretches a little before looking back out the crack of the doorway he’s sitting in.

“ _Chilling_ out is not something I really need more of at this time.”

“I don’t think Sheppard was the one injured. I saw him going after the last Wraith just before we ended up in that ditch,” Mitchell says a few minutes later, after Rodney has finished off the power bar. Rodney tries to puzzle out why Mitchell is telling him this now.

Of course the others find them eventually. The snow has settled to a light drifting fall and the bite of wind has died.

“So, you two want to come on out and join the rest of us again?” Sheppard’s words break the cold darkness. Some tightness is relaxed in Rodney by the sound of that familiar voice.

Sheppard’s smiling at Rodney when he crawls out of the tiny cellar with Mitchell. It’s that smile, the one that has some trick to it, some prank or joke that one day Rodney is determined to understand. Right now it’s just damned annoying.

Teal’c was hit in the arm, but it’s been cleaned and bandaged. “He likes to pretend this kind of thing never happens to him so don’t ask about it,” Jackson explains as they make their way through the darkness in search for a place to set camp.

Mitchell is irritated they’ve lost time. There’s a little pow-wow of Colonels around the small fire-pit. Rodney sits quietly, hands out to the licking flames, gaze fixed on the pop and spark of fire. He can’t imagine where they found dry kindling. The others go over plans for tomorrow. The “holy ground” should only be a short march from here.

That night Sheppard kisses him. It’s not a chaste kiss or something that can be denied in the morning as never having happened. Which really should freak him out, but under the circumstances seems completely rational.

They’re all dug into little snowy alcoves around the fire. Sheppard and Dr. Jackson take the first watch. Rodney is just dozing off, despite his cold ears and freezing toes in his boots, when John’s watch is over. He crawls under the unzipped bag, tucking it tight around them and smoothing fingers over Rodney’s hair, which instantly brings him up from his doze. Before he can react he’s being kissed and it’s warm and soothing and desperate all at once. “Never do that again,” is all Sheppard says afterwards and then sneezes.

The warmth generated between them settles the shivering, which Rodney realizes he’s been doing for a long while. He’s too exhausted to puzzle out what just happened or explain that it wasn’t his fault he got lost in a snowstorm with Mitchell. He’s warm and relatively safe now. Sleep claims him quickly.

\---  
6\. Craters in the Snow

 

The next morning, pre-dawn, they make it to the holy ground, which in an ironic way is actually full of holes. Great craters, from some large meteor impacts, hundreds of thousands of years past. Another foot of snow has fallen overnight and it crunches under their boots, amplifying the silence of the barren landscape.

SG-1 focuses on one of the center craters; Rodney kneels on the ground outside the perimeter with his weapon cradled close. Sheppard is making a circuit around the craters, eyes always on the sky. Ronon is on the opposite side of the field, equally alert but also watching SG-1 with undisguised interest.

Teyla stays near Rodney. He pulls out the life signs detector and checks it out. Nothing, other than themselves. But it can’t be entirely trusted since it was knocked around a lot yesterday and the re-wiring was a sketchy job at best.

“Is something wrong, Rodney?” Teyla says in a hushed voice.

“What?” He looks up. Her weapon is resting on her hip, muzzle towards the sky, and she’s scanning the horizon but also watching him. “You mean other than I’m freezing, I think I might have frostbite and hypothermia, Sheppard gave me his damn cold, I seriously need to eat something more than a power bar and MRE crackers, and this mission is a big waste of my valuable time? No, nothing wrong.”

She raises one of her perfectly arched brows at him. “I simply meant, you have been very quiet and that is uncommon for you.”

“Is it? I am capable of silence, you know.” He sniffs then sighs at the further arch of her brow. “Fine, something is on my mind and I’m not at liberty to discuss it.”

“I see.” She shifts the weapon to her other hip, looks over at Col. Sheppard then back at him. “So, you do not think this mission will be successful?”

“Why did you just look over at him?” Rodney demands.

“I am sorry?” She frowns, a little line of confusion between her brows.

“You know what I’m asking! You just glanced over at Col. Sheppard like you know something.”

Teyla shakes her head slowly, looking at him as if he’s insane. “I do not know what you are talking about. I was merely checking his position.”

“Oh.” Rodney feels suddenly stupid and immature. He stuffs the life signs detector back in his pocket and stands up. “Well, I uh… I’m just going to see how Ronon is.” He wanders off in that general direction; aware she is watching him retreat.

 _Stupid, stupid, McKay_. His mind has been racing all morning. In fact he’s amazed he slept at all. That kiss was so not in the playbook. And for it to be on this mission? What the hell brought it on and how the hell does he deal with it now? He’s been over it and over it a hundred times with no answers. It’s not math or some mechanical thing he can work out with the right equation.

Sheppard isn’t making it easy. He’s acting like nothing at all out of the ordinary happened between them. He’s patrolling perimeters, joking with Ronon and generally being his usual smirky-flyboy-self.

”Hey,” Ronon offers by way of greeting as Rodney slowly approaches.

“Hmm,” Rodney offers back. The good thing about Ronon is that he’s introverted and it’s a safe bet he won’t be asking questions.

They stand in companionable silence watching SG-1 digging in the craters.

An hour passes. It’s eerily quiet and Rodney hates to admit that he has the bad feeling. He always has it but now he’s really got it bad and can’t work out why. He doesn’t believe in intuition. Paranoia, yes. Intuition, no.

“They aren’t going to find anything here,” Ronon pronounces.

“Of course not,” Rodney sneezes. He’s been watching Sheppard’s pacing form on the other side of the crater field.

“Found it!” Jackson yells, holding an object up in a gloved hand. Ronon and Rodney exchange looks of surprise.

Rodney goes to check it out; everyone huddles around Dr. Jackson and the object. It’s a rusty box and inside is a scroll, remarkably preserved.

“Oh great, we can go home now.” Rodney can’t help the sarcasm, thinking about the Jumper sunk at the bottom of a lake and who knows how many Wraith still scouring the planet.

“Actually…” Jackson is examining the scroll. “I think I need some help here.” He’s trying to decipher some Ancient writing. “It looks like some technical equations or something…” He’s squinting at the writing.

“Well we can pack it up and look at it when we get back to Atlantis,” Sam says.

“No, hand it over.” Rodney holds a hand out for it then snaps his fingers impatiently when they all look dumbfounded. “Come on! I can read it for you.” Sam’s mouth is hanging open.

“You read Ancient?” Mitchell asks.

“Of course I read it, write it, type it, whatever. You don’t think I’ve spent the last four years of my life living in an Ancient city with Ancient technology and haven’t picked up the language by now? Hand it over!” This he says in Ancient to Jackson who first looks like he’s been slapped with a giant fish then breaks into a brilliant smile.

Rodney makes a grab for the scroll and Jackson lets go. “Know a bit of Wraith too for that matter,” he says in English to the others, who are staring in bewilderment. He turns the scroll around and skims over the Ancient text. “It’s an equation for a device but it appears you need the tools to build it, of course. This part here is basically the guide for how to make the… well the ammo for said device, for lack of a better description.”

He’s just about to go into detail about how it’s laying out necessary crystallization and periodicity of atoms when a shout from Ronon across the field interrupts and all at once the group scatters with weapons aimed to the skies.

It’s just one Dart at first but moments later it’s a dozen and Rodney clutches the scroll under his jacket and claws his way up the face of the crater. He runs for the forested area around the open field. Jackson is not far behind, sporadically peppering the skies with weapon fire and tailing him into the cover of the forest, which Rodney knows is not a real way to hide from Darts, but it gives the illusion of it so that’s where he’s going.

There are several large explosions at once and Rodney looks up to see two Darts blooming into flames and smoke before nose diving into the ground. Smoke, flames and weapons’ fire pretty well blinds everything in his general line of sight. Jackson runs out of ammo and scurries back to huddle down near Rodney.

He shoves the Ancient scroll into Jackson’s hands and rushes up to the forest edge with his P90, making a general aim towards an approaching Dart, eventually knocking it out of the sky. It’s the last to crash into one of the craters and the calm of snow-covered fields settles again.

The quiet is momentary because that’s when they all realize Teyla has been badly wounded and Sheppard is screaming for first-aid. From there Rodney loses track of the progress of events.

\---  
7\. Consummation

Somehow they make it back to the camp area from the night before. Teyla is in a tourniquet but steadily bleeding out and Sheppard’s hands are soaked red with it. In general everyone is looking uneasy about her condition but not discussing what could possibly be the inevitable.

Rodney sits close to her as they wrap her up in a sleeping bag and quickly light a fire for warmth. He forces her to sip from his canteen and tells her about how they will get back to Atlantis soon and not to fret because Beckett will work his voodoo and have her all fixed up, no worries. She’s probably not hearing a word of it because Sheppard stuck her with morphine and her eyes are pretty glazed. But he talks anyways because it comforts him to say these things and pretend he believes them.

“The Jumper has a distress beacon that the Daedalus will track. It started going off the minute we hit water on arrival. They’re bound to be here soon enough now,” Sheppard is explaining to an oddly quiet SG-1.

After Ronon takes his place beside Teyla, Rodney ambles off towards some trees, several feet away, where he promptly throws up what small amount of food was left in his stomach. A little squirrel-like creature is chittering in the trees with a mate. He focuses on them and wills his sudden shivering to stop.

“Hey, come on. Come back to the fire.” Sheppard speaks softly and Rodney allows himself to be led back. A small field cup of warmed water is in his hands and he’s urged to drink.

Teyla passes out. Thank God! Sam and Jackson are attempting to dig the shrapnel from the wound and patch her back up, but neither of them are real medical doctors of course, so no one knows how successful this will be. Rodney stays far away from it; he’s seen enough blood and gore this mission to last the rest of his life.

Long hours later she has a clean white bandage wrapped tight around the wound and a low-grade fever but is sleeping more soundly, with some color back in her face. Everyone is dimly hopeful.

“We’re going back to the village for blankets and supplies,” Mitchell announces.

“We can’t move her,” Ronon objects, eyes daring Mitchell to suggest otherwise.

“That’s fine. What I’m saying is that Teal’c and I are going. We’ll bring back what we find and wait out here for the Daedalus for a day or so. But if it doesn’t show…” He looks at Sheppard who is cleaning and reloading Teyla’s weapon.

“If it doesn’t show we can try and capture one of the Darts. McKay and I know how to fly them. We can beam you all up and head for the gate.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Mitchell agrees. He and Teal’c head off at a sure clip into the gathering dusk.

Sheppard sits close to Teyla’s sleeping form, touching her every so often, doing a very bad job of trying not to appear worried. Rodney watches him closely, struggling with his own contrary emotions. Sam spends an hour with him beside the fire, not talking.

“I’ll take first watch,” Ronon announces with one last glance at Teyla.

“I’ll join you,” Jackson offers, both moving off to the distant perimeter of camp. Eventually Sam leaves the glow of the dying fire to find some rest of her own.

That’s the night John shatters any illusions Rodney might have had that the previous night was just a one time act of insanity.

He consummates everything that has been between them for so long now Rodney didn’t even recognize it for what it was anymore. Until this. Until John is waking him up with body heat and insistent hands finding their way under his clothes, wrapping around him and stroking fast and hard. It’s all very hushed and quick with half whispered urgings, so that Rodney almost thinks he’s dreaming this, except he’s not, because he never reaches completion in these kinds of dreams.

Somehow he manages to begin thinking clearly enough to reciprocate the act. John swallows Rodney’s gasps in a heated, open mouthed kiss and then buries his face into the crook of Rodney’s neck and shivers, biting back his own sounds of climax, though Rodney thinks he hears his name strangled in there some place. He pets and gentles until their breathing returns to normal.

John lifts his head minutes later and stares down at him. At least, Rodney has to assume that’s what he’s doing, the darkness is so complete with the stars hidden behind snow-heavy clouds. Rodney wipes his hand off on the inside of John’s coat and can only imagine the look he’s getting for that. He’s not sure why he does it; there’s perfectly fine snow within reach that would serve a cleaner purpose.

“Are you okay?” John asks, voice hushed but still startling in the dark silence of night. Rodney’s brain tries to catch up to what just happened and what the question means.

“Of course,” he lies, deciding he can’t go wrong with that answer. It’s another minute before John lays his head back down beside him. Eventually his breathing slows to a rhythmic pattern of sleep.

But Rodney can’t sleep now. Because one of his best friends was too nearly killed today and could still be on death’s doorstep, they are all stuck on a Wraith infested planet with no way off, he can feel himself getting feverish from that damned cold and his other best friend has just turned their relationship into a love affair.

Rodney’s not even sure he’s gay.

\---  
8\. Speaking in Ancient

The thing about introducing intimacy between friends is that it changes everything. This is the first thing Rodney concludes within minutes of waking in the predawn chill. John is no longer next to him, contributing heat.

“Sheppard went to meet up with Mitchell and Teal’c.” Ronon says, as soon as Rodney sticks his head out of the sleeping bag and into the freezing air.

“What?” he says, clears his throat, and starts coughing as the chilled air is sucked into his lungs. “What?” he asks again, voice only slightly clearer.

“They captured a Dart, radioed ahead and he’s going to fly it back here to us.”

“Oh.” He looks at Teyla, who is still sleeping.

“She woke up for a bit. I forced some crackers and warm water down her,” Ronon says.

“Oh… good.” Rodney wants to go to her and see for himself that she’s still breathing. But he also wants to bathe suddenly; he can feel Sheppard all over him. However, a real bath is never going to happen here.

“McKay? You should probably come over here by the fire and drink something,” Sam says. Rodney watches the breath puff out on each of her words. Snow is drifting down again. “Sheppard said you had a fever,” she explains.

And that’s when he spends the next 3 hours chatting with Daniel Jackson in Ancient (which seems to make the man almost giddy with linguistic happiness) while trying to unfreeze his toes by the fire. He convinces himself that he absolutely is not at all having paranoid visions of John alone in the fields of snow, being attacked by Wraith. Because that would be just Rodney’s luck, to finally have someone return his affections and then lose the object of said affections the very next day.

But he can’t get the image out of his head. Everything is Sheppard now. Every thought, every word, every sound and smell. The man has weaseled his way into Rodney’s brain and it’s all he can do to focus on what Jackson is saying to him and acknowledge it with half-sensible responses. Luckily they are speaking in another language - one Rodney is really much better at reading and writing than speaking, so it can all be blamed on that.

It could also just be that he has a sinus headache and is running a fever from the cold. But damn if he isn’t going to kill Sheppard if the man has managed rob him of all his brilliance. Stupid sex and stupid infatuation, it ruins perfectly smart people every day.

“Dr. McKay?” Jackson is nudging his arm.

“What?”

“You look a little glassy-eyed. Do you want something for the fever?”

He’s about to decline and suggest that he’s going to lay down with Teyla when the distinct whine of an approaching Dart is in the air.

“It’s him,” Sam says. “He’s giving the signal.”

Rodney wonders what the signal is - and no, he did not just feel an urge to be suddenly giddy with happiness that John is back.

Thankfully there’s no time to really think or be terrified at the idea of being beamed into a Dart, even if it is Sheppard doing the beaming. They all gather in a huddle around Teyla. Before he can blink the beam sweeps over them and all thought of self vanishes.

\---  
9\. This Thing that is Happening

 

“Just a little respiratory infection, he’ll be fine.” Familiar voices and warmth greet Rodney when he wakes. This can’t be a dream because the smell of something sweet and hot is far too real to be imagined. He can’t place what it is; a familiar and spiced scent that reminds him of childhood. “Teyla’s going to have to stay here a little longer. But she’s strong, no worries there.” That’s Carson and there’s Elizabeth’s voice too but they are moving away and the words drift off with them.

He opens just one blurry eye; if it’s a dream he wants to fall back into it with little effort.

“Hey you.” John’s on the edge of his bed. The bright whites of the infirmary come into focus.

“Hey,” he returns, eyes drinking in the vision of a clean, shaved and spiky-haired Sheppard.

“How’re you feeling?” He genuinely looks as if he’s concerned, not just asking because he wants to hurry and get the team back out in the field.

“I feel like crap, thanks to you and your cold.” An overwhelming urge to cough takes hold but he fights it; if he starts he won’t stop.

John has the grace to look down, almost guilty. “Yeah well… I’m sorry I gave it to you.” His eyes glance up with something like challenge or perhaps playfulness. “Not exactly sorry about how I gave it to you,” voice low and intimately familiar.

A light shiver that has nothing to do with cold spills over him. Rodney realizes he might be a little in love with Sheppard.

He wants to ask about SG-1 and the scroll but words are elusive.

It’s like Sheppard’s reading his mind though; “SG-1 is already heading back to Earth. But Dr. Jackson and Col. Carter left some photos of that scroll for you to look at and transmit back what it says. I think they owe us some really good steak dinners next time we make it to Earth.”

“Hmm, I agree.” He manages to smile at the thought.

“I brought you this.” A warm mug is placed on the bedside table. “Hot apple cider from the kitchens; the Daedalus just brought it in.” He gives Rodney that smile, the one that has something else behind it. Rodney blinks, studying him closely, and realization drops heavily on top of him. He’s completely in love with Sheppard and it was always right there in that smile.

“Oh,” he manages to get out, “Uh… thanks.”

“No problem.” They sit in companionable silence and warmth for several minutes. Rodney sips at the spiced cider which is like the most incredible and comforting thing he’s had in ages. Sheppard watches him and Rodney doesn’t remember ever being so obviously the center of someone else’s intense focus before, much less Sheppard’s. It’s a bit terrifying and he forces himself to listen to all the sounds of the infirmary, to feel the warmth of the mug in his hands and also to wrap his mind around this thing that is happening.

“Hey, I’m going to check on Teyla and I’ll just be in Elizabeth’s office for awhile after that. I’ll stop by before lights out, okay?”

“Uh…” He wants to ask why but it’s such a rhetorical question. He knows why. “Okay. How about you bring me food next time.”

John smirks and leaves with one last smile. Rodney thinks he can do this and he might even be willing to give up some of his brilliance for it.

/end


End file.
